


Pearl

by CorviDeus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Possession, Bodysharing, Consensual Possession, M/M, Masturbation, Other, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorviDeus/pseuds/CorviDeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Lucifer's vessel, the archangel's wings belong to Sam, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pearl

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of imagined this as happening sometime in an alternate Season 9 with Lucifer in Sam rather than Gadreel, but really, it can be whenever you like. And Mother of Pearl is totally my headcanon for Lucifer's wings.

Sam jolts into awareness with an idea in his head. He can vaguely remember the dream that gave him the idea, but he lets it fade, because if he’s right, he’ll have the real thing soon.  
His body is propped up on the bed, leaning on one elbow, a decayed, ancient looking tome in one hand that is written in no language Sam has ever heard of. Sam’s eyes are scanning the page, and he can feel the information being absorbed, but he isn’t getting any of it.

Feeling Lucifer reading with his eyes is one thing about their arrangement that he never gets used to. It’s alright when the angel translates for Sam, but right now he isn’t bothering to, because Sam had been sleeping.  
Lucifer reaches the end of a paragraph and closes the book, careful of the aged parchment.

‘Do you need something, Sammy?’ he asks aloud, turning their head to the full length mirror they’d had installed across one wall.

‘I had an idea,’ the hunter answers him. Sam tries to flex their muscles, though Lucifer is firmly in control at the moment, and the archangel indulges him, stretching Sam’s limbs out for him.  
When Sam is satisfied, he continues.

‘I was wondering, because I’m your vessel, my body can do whatever you can do even if I normally couldn’t when you weren’t in me, right?’

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at his vessel's clumsy wording.

‘That is generally the way it works, yes,’ he says, amusement tinting his voice.

Sam huffs, indignant at Lucifer’s mirth.

‘I mean, can I see your wings?’ he asks.

Lucifer stills, going from loose and relaxed in Sam’s body to stony and angelic in an instant. The steady breathing he maintains for Sam’s peace of mind also stops, and though he doesn’t need the oxygen while they’re like this, Sam struggles instinctively until Lucifer remembers and lets Sam draw in a few shaky breaths.

‘There’s no reason you couldn’t,’ Lucifer finally answers.

Sam almost doesn't ask his next question. Lucifer seems hesitant, and he isn’t sure whether he should push.

‘May I?’ he asks quietly.

He gets a slow nod in response, and Lucifer rearranges them, so they’re sitting up on the bed, legs stretched out before them. He closes their eyes.  
Sam feels the flicker of grace Lucifer uses to summon the wings. It’s almost the same as the feeling of Lucifer flying, but briefer, less energetic. Sam supposes that makes sense. He decides not to mention his observation to Lucifer. The archangel openly scoffs at Sam’s assertions that he can “feel” the different uses of his grace and differentiate between them that finely. He accepts that Sam feels something, but the idea that the human can tell the difference between flying and conjuring he dismisses as wishful thinking and overactive imagination.

Lucifer finally opens his eyes, and there is no pain, not even any discomfort, just bright, beautiful light that Sam is vaguely aware he shouldn’t be able to see but is.  
And it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sam doesn’t bother trying to verbalise his reaction for Lucifer, knowing the archangel can feel all the emotion running through his vessel with far greater precision than Sam would ever be able to put into words. Lucifer can feel the wonder, the elation, the pure awe as Sam follows long flight feathers with his eyes. The human raises one hand, but stops an inch shy of touching the beautiful pieces of Lucifer that surround him, until the archangel projects fondness at his vessel through their bond, takes control of the arm and shoves their hand into his wing.

Sam gasps. Touching Lucifer’s wing is like nothing he’s ever experienced, not even the sensation of his angel’s grace stroking his soul inside them is like this, because it’s physical in a way that Lucifer has never been, not really. They’ve shared Sam’s body, and of course there is physical intimacy involved in that, but nothing compares to the sensation of touching an angel, touching Lucifer, with his real hands.

It’s ice and lava, electricity and liquid, fury and thunder, all of these things and yet none of them, nothing that Sam’s brain was ever meant to comprehend. It’s love and beauty and grace, it’s Lucifer, and no human words can describe it truly.

Sam turns his attention more to the wings themselves rather than the sensations they provoke. They’re massive, all six of them, each pair probably having greater mass than Sam’s whole body. Some of the individual feathers are more than a foot long, pinions like javelins supporting them. The colour is hard to decide on, Sam first thinking white, pure white, until Lucifer shifts them a little- Sam can’t control the wings, no more than he can control Lucifer’s grace, but he can feel them- and Sam catches a dozen hues, pinks and greens and blues and purples. Mother of Pearl, Sam decides, watching the colours ripple and shift across the feathery mass.

Sam’s hand, his human hand, is still buried in the closest wing, still touching and stroking and he feels a sudden flash of guilt, that his dirty human limb is touching such perfection, and tries to pull it back, until Lucifer growls in their head and Sam becomes aware of what he’s doing to his angel, how every brush of Sam’s fingers across feathers and grace sends jolts of pleasure through their shared body, down to where Lucifer is touching them, Sam’s other hand working furiously in Lucifer's control, and Sam can’t believe how hard he’d become without even noticing. But then Lucifer growls at him again, and Sam pushes his hand back into his angel’s wings and keeps going until they gasp out completion, together, as always.

When Sam comes back to himself the wings have vanished and they’re lying on their back, eyes closed. The particular smile Sam has always associated with Lucifer is on their face, Sam can feel it without needing to look, and Lucifer’s grace radiates love and adoration at him.

‘I think I would like to do that again,’ Lucifer says once Sam is fully awake.

The smile they wear widens and neither is sure which one of them is responsible.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr url is direcorvideus.tumblr.com, if any of you are interested. Not that there's anything there at the moment.


End file.
